


Harbinger Series

by FlowerChiild



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Farkas is a baby, I love him, Reader is a vampire, Skyrim Main Quest, The Companions - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:45:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11680485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlowerChiild/pseuds/FlowerChiild
Summary: A series of one shots that follow the Reader as she embarks on her daily life in Skyrim, along with her husband, Farkas.





	1. Chapter 1

He never fully understood how he came to care for her. They were two completely different species after all, and their taboo friendship had begun to rouse suspicions from those of the Companions. She was already a mixed breed to begin with, of Breton and High Elf, something that was seen as impure. He had never seen an issue with her sun kissed skin and pointed ears, with the freckles that expanded from her cheeks to her shoulders from countless hours of adventures in the sunlight. Before she turned. 

"I still don't really approve of Kodlak appointing a vampire as Harbinger." Aela mumbled with distaste, watching [Y/N] laugh cutely over Athis's antics. From what he could remember, Aela had never liked the newest companion. 

Farkas separated himself from the conversation by trying to down his mead. 

"It's what the old man wanted." Vilkas interrupted. "As long as she doesn't breed, I suppose, there's no problem."

"She's not an _animal_ , brother." Farkas barked in her defense. "Neither did she ask for the virus." 

Vilkas grumbled something along the lines of _You're too smitten, Icebrain,_ into his pheasant breast, but Farkas bit his tongue and continued to watch her. She was probably the smallest out of all the warriors, which gave him the urge to defend her in any way possible, even though he knew she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. [Y/N] glanced over in his direction, over the fire, and when their eyes met the flames made shadows dance in her [E/C] eyes. A soft smile splayed across her features, and he saw those little sharp teeth poke out from in between her lips. 

"Hello, Farkas." Her sultry voice rang in his ears as she approached him. "How's your feast?"   
"Just fine," He admitted. "How've you been?" 

"Shouldn't you know that already?" [Y/N] winked playfully at him, only to dance out the doors of Jorrvaskr and into the back courtyard. He felt himself rise from his seat and wander out after her, drunk on both his mead and her scent that was stronger than usual. He was greeted by her glowing [E/C] eyes, another feature from vampirism that seemed to unnerve everyone else. The vixen-like nature of those irises sent a tingle from the tip of his spine, pooling in his groin and ending in his toes. 

He glided naturally towards her, finally meeting her under the light of the moon. His hands embraced her forearms and her lips were against his. He nipped the tender flesh of her lips and his tongue met the sharp tips of her fangs. She bit down and drew a droplet of blood from his tongue, letting the taste of iron roll on her palette. Like a ghost, she slipped away from him, smirking up at him from over her shoulder and heading for the underforge. 

 

The stone of the underforge felt cold against his bare back, and the loose pebbles dug painfully into his buttocks, but the sight of [Y/N] above him mid-orgasm made him forget the pinpricks of pain. 

"You've too much stamina for me, Harbinger." He laughs through panting breaths. She frowns visibly.   
"Am I just the Harbinger to you?" 

Silence ate away at him, and he felt the tip of his ears grow hot with realization. Farkas took another look at her, how her eyes shined even in the darkness of the underforge, and the flames from the lone torch in the corner highlighted the strands in her hair. Her delicate shoulders bare just for him, where the Amulet of Mara displayed the pretty green gems for his attention. 

"Do I have your permission?" He questioned cautiously, "To marry you?"  
"Well you've already taken me by the hips," [Y/N] giggled and wiggled her bottom for emphasis. He smiled broadly.

"So it's settled, then." Farkas laughed. "You and me." 

She kissed him tenderly then.


	2. Rain's Hand

Rain’s Hand was her favorite month. She usually spent her time down by the river during the cool mornings catching fish or feeding foxes. She was a side-by-side huntress with Aela, strong and graceful, but she had a kindness that cooled her fire that Aela lacked. And that’s what drew Farkas to her so quickly.

Aela was beautiful. Any man who could not see her beauty most likely did not deserve to be in the presence of it. Farkas acknowledged this. He had had feelings for her in the past, pining for her from behind with his sword drawn. But her fierceness was sometimes overwhelming, with the wildfire in her eyes that sent him back into the corner every time he even attempted to grace her with his affections. He’d watch her skin hunted game without remorse, he’d watch her drive an arrow through a man’s eye socket and gleefully lick his blood off the stone after she’d dismembered it from his skull. She was beautiful, yes, with the hips that fit the perfect wife. But could he have her, for eternity now and in Sovengarde? May Talos assist him if he decided to try.

So when the wooden doors of Jorrvaskr revealed a young lass who matched Aela’s beauty and then some, Farkas nearly choked on his goat leg. She strolled in confidently, a bow on her back and a fragment of Wuuthrad held tightly in her hand, and met his eyes with orbs of [color] that revealed soft determination instead of hard challenge. The woman, whom he had learned was called [Your Name], had taken his heart in a mere few seconds because he knew. They may have called him icebrain, and they may have said that he brother inherited their Ysgramor's knowledge, but Fakras knew. And his faith was coaxed even more when he spotted the amulet of Mara resting against her collarbone.

 

_Rain’s Hand._

The month bloomed lavender mountain flowers along the bases of mountains, sprouted nirnroot near rivers and brought out the Mammoths that she marveled over. He watched her from afar, perched barefoot in her fur armor as she watched the water wade. Her eyes grew with primal instincts, waiting for the moment to let the arrow fly and catch her lunch. His back ached against the bark. He was afraid of breaking her concentration if he moved and bothered a thistle. He sighed quietly, but even that caused a disruption and he found himself pressed against the tree as an arrow went whizzing past his nose.

“Sorry.” He mumbled sheepishly after recovering. She glared playfully at him.

“Farkas..” Her lips formed a pout and he swallowed thickly. Talos, she was gorgeous. “That was my lunch!”

He chuckled and grinned wolfishly at her. She smiled sweetly, brushing the [hair color] braids behind her ears and looking up at him. “Lunch will be on me, then.”

“Oh, no!” She opened her mouth in protest. Farkas ignored her defiantly, kicking off his boots and settling his sword against the rock she was perched on just before. He waded into the water, watching the fish swim helplessly away from his toes. He bent down, clenching his fists as he waited for the right moment. A salmon slowed under his shadow, confused and wary. [Your name] flinched and smiled when his fist lurched into the water and emerged once again with a wriggling heap of pale pink flesh. She smiled bashfully in his direction as he pressed his thumbs into its gills.

“For you, Dovahkiin.”

 

Hours later they were by a fire, built a ways away from the river. A basket, filled to the brim with a variety of fish, sat beside them. Four salmon were being roasted over the fire. While [Your Name] nibbled quietly on some bones, Farkas licked his fingers and hooted. He stretched his arms out above him.

“Damn! Nothing like a natural meal from Talos.” He spoke, leaning towards the fire to relish its warmth. [Your name] glanced at him and watched the shadows of the fire dance upon his features, lighting up his pale blue eyes and enhancing his jawline. She smiled at him and watched him quietly. Farkas felt her gaze and turned to meet her eyes. They were soft and loving, which caught him off guard because he’d never felt this type of atmosphere with her.

“You’re so tainted,” She began. Her sudden words stung him and he leaned back away from her. “But your heart is so pure. How come? You’ve seen so much blood, Farkas..” Her hands, so small and dainty, spread across his knuckles and gripped them gently. “You’ve seen so much death.”

Her skin was soft and drove his primal instincts past the Throat of the World, but he stayed put and watched her lips form words.

“You’re so much like a man, Farkas. Like a man and.. and a wolf.”

Her thighs were suddenly too exposed to him.

Her collarbone was illuminated by the fire.

“Fark -”

Her lips melded with his and his hands roamed terrains they shouldn’t have been wandering, but her gasp against his skin drove him wild with a hunger he’d never felt so intensely before. Her hands grasped the fur on his shoulders and her legs were around his waist in an instant. All of a sudden they were on the grass, scrambling to be bare before each other. He felt her soft curves, her hips that had been shaped for battle but still held the touch of a mother.

Her name rolled off his tongue and she groaned, pressing herself further into him. His teeth were on her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone and his lips were everywhere.

He growled her name over and over as she whispered his. He was her wolf and she was his mate, his reason to protect.

“You’re mine,” His whispered against her thighs. “You’re my mate.”

“I’m yours.” [Your Name] gasped.

 

And she was.


	3. Little Toes

Windhelm was frigid during this time of year. Farkas looked to his wife beside him, bundled underneath several layers of dresses and a heavy mammoth fur cloak. She seemed content in the heavy snowfall, the only indication of the cold bothering her was the pink tint on her nose. He, on the other hand, wholeheartedly regretted coming in nothing but his usual armor. The wolf hide did little to spread warmth to his arms, and his fingers felt raw with cold. 

"Tell me why we're doing this again?" He grumbled for what seemed to be the upteenth time.   
"If you're so cold, imagine a helpless little girl in nothing but her sheep's wool dress." [Y/N] snapped in his direction.   
"Well," He bit his lip, which in turn bled, "Why didn't you just bring her home with you when you first saw her?"  
"Because, Icebrain," She teased him, "You would have scared her to death, coming home from a run with Vilkas and not knowing you had a new daughter. Imagine that! The poor thing seeing you covered in giant's blood in the middle of the night." 

Farkas chose not to reply. The duo braced against the wind as they crossed the bridge to the entrance of Windhelm, where the cover of high walls would shield them from a good portion of the weather. [Y/N] burrowed deeper into her clothing when she spotted two burly men arguing over the presence of elves in the kingdom. Farkas glanced over at her uneasily, placing himself in between her and the heated argument. She scowled up at him as he ushered them both into a back street. 

"We were fine." [Y/N] grumbled. "They wouldn't have bothered us."   
"Your body language said otherwise." Farkas gruffly stated. 

The two strode quietly the rest of the way to the doors of the Palace of Kings. The entrance was unguarded, a rare occurrence in these times of war. Farkas saw [Y/N]'s eyes drift over to a barrel tucked away in the corner, with dampened wood from the snow, a small basket on top. She approached it quietly. The closer he came to the barrel, he could see wilting flowers tangled together by the stems in the basket. 

"Hello." [Y/N]'s voice, soft and airy, prodded the silence. "Aren't you cold?"

Farkas saw her crouched at an angle behind the barrel. In the dark, he could see two leather clogs pressed together, followed by bare, pale ankles. [Y/N] stood, seemingly burdened by some sort of weight. As she turned to face him, a little girl, no more than five moons, was huddled into the wool of [Y/N]'s clothing. Her lips were thin and chapped, a pale pink color, and her face was white as snow. The girl opened her eyes and revealed orbs of emerald, so green it caught him off guard. 

"Hi." The little girl said timidly. "My name is Sofie. Would you like to buy some flowers?" 

[Y/N] exchanged some quiet words that, even with his wolf hearing, Farkas could not hear. His wife raised her head and smiled fondly in his direction, her glowing eyes softening in a way that seemed almost human. They were pleading in a way, searching his eyes for approval. Please, Farkas, love her as your own.

"Let's head on home, shall we then?" He finalized. Gently, he took the little girl from his wife's arms, and placed her underneath his cape that rested on his shoulders. With her snugly in place, already half asleep in her new father's pelt, Farkas walked forward as [Y/N] followed. At this rate, they could hire a carriage and be home in Whiterun by nightfall.

"Thank you, Farkas."  
He nuzzled her quickly, pressing his lips to hers in the privacy of the back street, before pulling away and continuing towards the entrance of the city. 

"Anything for my girls."


	4. Chapter 4

"I knew it! I've discovered a secret passage that has opened up in the dining room!"

Farkas grumbled from where he had pulled a lever in the adjacent room. The entire quest so far had consisted mainly of him getting the full brunt of every possible impact; he was the unfortunate soul who discovered the traps in Miraak's temple (his back _ached_ from the unforgiving blow of the log strung up ahead by the ceiling), he had taken the damage for every pathetic attack from the draugr, _and_ he defeated every damn cultist the temple threw their way. Frea hadn't been much help at all. 

He emerged from his spot by the lever and watched her fumble into the passage that descended into the wall. Frea had nearly tripped over herself a dozen times just getting to their current location, but at this point Farkas was so tired and yearning to return home that he didn't mind watching her flail down the rocky path. He faintly registered her talking to him, most likely about the history of the Skaal, or how about her father wished for her to be the next village shawoman. They were the same subjects she had been chattering about the entire trip. He had only wished [Y/N] had been here to try and engage the conversation with her natural pleasantness and people skills - things that never did occur to him naturally. 

 

His feet ached. The treasure he had looted from the temple felt heavy against his back. Frea and her father insisted on a meal in the Great Hall before his long journey home, a token of thanks for his discovery of Miraak's influence over the people of Solstheim. Storn, the current Shaman, had presented Farkas with a glorious meal of Horker meat, fruit, cheese, bread, and mead. He made a mental note of it to store some food for the day-long journey by ship back to his homeland. In the midst of chewing, he felt curious fingers prowl up the armor and fabric of his leg. He looked down to see Frea's pale hand mischievously toying with the loose threads of his under clothes. 

"It's a shame we cannot use the strange wall in the temple to our use. It must have some sort of power to it." Storn sighed, gulping down some mead and leaning forward on his elbows. "Surely, there must be some sort of mage out there who can figure out how to use such magic to his advantage."

Farkas, desperate to escape the clutches of an unwed, and utterly _parched_ young woman, straightened his back and sucked in a quick breath. He would hate to disrespect the village elder before him. "My wife."

"Your wife?" Storn looked up at him hopefully. "She knows of such magic? Surely, we need her help right away! I beg of you!"

Frea's hand slinked away from his leg dejectedly. Farkas felt relief wash over him. "[Y/N] is no mage. She is the Dragonborn, much like Miraak was, only that she does not use her gift to harm others. She would know how to use these words, and speak the tongue of dragons, to retrieve your people from Miraak's influence." 

"Divine's above! We must transport her here as soon as we can!"  
"With no disrespect, Shaman, but she is expecting any day now -" Farkas began, having no future plans to bring his grumpy, pregnant wife to such a miserable island.  
"We will pay you in the inheritance of my village. We have not had a Jarl, or a chief, in decades."

Farkas looked up at Storn with wide eyes.  
[Y/N] was going to be very, _very_ angry.


	5. Unexpected

"You _what_?" 

"Look, honey, we have the opportunity to -"

"Farkas, you're out of your mind!" [Y/N] cried from her spot in bed, nearly knocking pitcher of water from the housecarl's hands. "What about the Companions? What about this home we've put so much effort into building? There are no other children in Solstheim, how will Sofie cope? The baby is due any minute, Farkas!"

"[Y/N], this is our chance to be _comfortable_ , to settle! There's a little girl who lives in the Skaal village. I'm sure she and Sofie will make fast friends. We'll sell our horses, sell the homestead, sell the chickens. The Skaal want _Jarls_ , [Y/N]. Not just one, but two."

His wife had visions of birthing the new babe in blistering cold winds, of the dogs dying in the frigid winter. Farkas saw this immediately, swooping down into the bedding where his wife sat and bidding the housecarl to excuse herself. In the privacy of their bedroom, he sweetly took her lips and rubbed circles on the stretched skin of her belly. He worried the thought of the move would cause [Y/N] stress, and he feared causing harm to their firstborn. He could hear his adoptive Daughter's curious tip-toeing on the stairs next to the bedroom. He sighed. He hadn't intended to cause an argument. 

"Okay." Came the soft voice from his wife, her voice muffled and quiet from beneath his arms and fur armor. "Okay, we'll go. But on one condition! We leave after the baby is born."  
"Of course, my love," He murmured into her hair. "When do you think that will be, darling?"

"Right now."


End file.
